


Time For Turning

by Grizmelder



Series: Deep in Autumn [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst with some light comedy...is that a thing?, Arranged Marriage, Background Relationships, Boys can't communicate, But we write them into corners until they do, Courting Rituals, Eventual Smut, Getting Together, I'm making it a thing, It ends with a marriage but not the one you think, Like a whole forest of pine trees, M/M, Minor Kuchiki Rukia/Kurosaki Ichigo, Misunderstandings, Pining, Post-Canon, Renji POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:55:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27109099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grizmelder/pseuds/Grizmelder
Summary: Renji had given up on his feelings for Byakuya so quickly after seeing the betrothal gifts.But for what? For who? Some unnamed noble woman with good manners and no understanding of what it was like to have Byakuya's back?Renji had bled for him and carried him home bleeding. It was where he wanted to be.So he'd fight for it.--Renji's long years as 6th Division Vice-Captain have been overshadowed by his unrequited love for Kuchiki Byakuya. But now it appears Byakuya is capitulating to his family's wishes and getting married.Defeated, run down, and stuck in a rut, will this be the shock Renji needs to get his mojo back? Will he remember what it means to be in the first flush of jealous, passionate love. Will it be returned to him in kind?
Relationships: Abarai Renji/Kuchiki Byakuya
Series: Deep in Autumn [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2013601
Comments: 23
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Super post-canon based on Renji years after when Rukia becomes 13th Captain and Ichigo has died and come to Soul Society. 
> 
> These days I'm sort of operating on the theory of 'epilogue what epilogue?' in the sense that I reserve the right to ship people with who I decide rather than who they actually might have "ended up" with. 
> 
> This fic has been unduly inspired by watching too many sassy Jane Austen exchanges recently. Please don't look too hard at Renji's dialogue, you may find a rogue Bennet, Dashwood or Darcy hidden under all that Inuzuri tough talk. 
> 
> This story is finished, so I'll be posting one chapter a week.

#### The memories of long love gather like drifting snow.

Servants marched like worker ants under the gateway and up to the door of the Kuchiki Estate, carrying presents above their heads. Across the threshold the parcels went, spirited away through the cracked-open screen door, no doubt to be properly _arranged_ somewhere in the sprawling depths of the mansion. Most likely the room with gold and green bamboo stems marching around the walls - that was the most impressive room to display such fine gifts.

Amongst the boxes and bustling people at the porch, Renji was stranded with no room to even take off his sandals. Which was a good **excuse** for why he was frozen in place and staring. The reality was that he was panicking. Because these were betrothal gifts, and a hot, burning thing was trying to crawl out of his belly just looking at them. He knew what they meant; Kuchiki Byakuya was getting married. To _someone that wasn’t him_.

There were delicate folding fans and long skeins of white hemp thread, symbolising a long life for the married couple, unfolding together. There was konbu, for the healthy children Byakuya would have with his betrothed, and bonito for virility, as if that would be needed. In short, it was Renji's worst nightmare. 

The servants finally noticed him standing there awkwardly. They bowed and apologised, flitting around making room for him. Just in time for him to fall hard onto the step, legs trembling. One of the younger girls - Yuka? Yuna? - was still talking, but his ears were ringing, and he could only hope that his vague grunts of assent were in the right places. It was Yuna, he decided. 

Yuna took his sandals from him and said "It's a shame that there won't be much family at the wedding, but it's such happy news, don't you think Abarai Fukutaicho?". She was beaming. Renji dug out a smile and nodded. The thrumming excitement in the hallway reached fever pitch as someone sneakily nudged open a lacquered box to reveal endless tumbling folds of jacquard silk. Yuna was drawn to it instantly. Renji practically fled in the other direction. 

At the end of this long corridor, there were several smaller rooms that would be empty. He could make a right just _here_ , shut himself up in one of the receiving rooms and just....take a moment. He needed to think. 

Inside the room with honey-gold patterned walls it was dark and warm like a cocoon. The frothing hoards at the front gate were just a gentle trickle of noise from back here. Renji sagged against the doors and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes until he saw stars. Why had nobody told him? Rukia, Byakuya and Renji were known all through Seireitei as an inseparable trio, on and off the battlefield. Why had neither of them thought to tell him this was in the works? 

But perhaps they had? The Kuchiki were a subtle breed and Rukia had been distracted of late with Ichigo's long-awaited arrival in the after life. 

Thinking hard about it, Renji remembered a conversation a few weeks ago. He had caught Byakuya in the office between a long day’s work and a long evening of clan politics. Apparently, the matchmaker had bullied her way onto the clan's agenda for that month. There had been a rare chip of mischief glinting in Byakuya's eye as he'd said "No matter. The elders won't have any excuse to pester me about _omiai_ soon enough." Renji hadn't found a chance to ask why, and Byakuya didn't seem troubled. So he'd dismissed it as part of the _usual_ ongoing problem of Kuchiki clan politics. Byakuya was often scheming. 

Yayoi-sama, the Kuchiki matchmaker’s, entire purpose in life was pestering the heir. Without the constant threat of war and death hanging over the Shinigami this past fifty years, it was harder to beg off from clan business. So, the noose of arranged marriage around Kuchiki-Taicho's neck had inched insidiously tighter. And tighter. 

This time Byakuya had let the knot stick. But the neck-breaking drop would be Renji's. 

He'd been falling in love for a long time before he'd realised, looking back. They'd been sparring regularly for about a year before it happened. Renji bragged to anyone that asked (and to a lot of people that didn't) that it was Taicho's idea to train him up - perhaps that pride should have been a giveaway. It seemed important that Taicho had suggested it, given how shitty Kuchiki Byakuya usually was with conflict resolution and interpersonal relations. 

One year and one new bankai move later, he'd got his Taicho down on one knee, hair mussed and the collar of his robes hanging open. There was a long pale line of neck into pectorals into a hint of abs and the ripple of desire at the sight of skin made Renji just... _Oh_. It seemed like the right hill to metaphorically die on, given - everything, just everything. So Renji stubbornly stepped into the blaze and stayed there, knowing he'd never get more than this; a graceful drop to one knee after battle. 

It had been at least a decade since that burning, full-body hum of adoration had faded into something else. It was a warm, burnt-charcoal affection, now, deep in Renji's gut. Alive and glowing inside even as the flames and his feelings were stifled. 

But seeing those betrothal gifts had been as breathtaking as cold steel through his gut. The sudden wave of intense feeling had caught him off guard. Renji gulped in the heavy, tatami-scented air of his hiding place and he realised that the feeling was _fear_. It had never been hopeless before, to want Byakuya, but he couldn't ever imagine letting go. This one-sided affection was part of him now, as much as Zabimaru and the 11th Division and Inuzuri, whether he wanted them or not. He leaned forward, bracing his hands on his knees and breathed in once through his nose. Out again through his mouth. Squared his shoulders and mastered himself, then left the room.

At the bright thrown-open door to the garden, Renji paused again. Outside, Byakuya and Rukia were dappled with leaf-shadows and cool autumn sunshine. They were turning away as he reached the veranda, smiling together. They looked jubilant. After all, they had a betrothal to celebrate together, as brother and sister. 

Renji abruptly realised that he'd forgotten why he’d come. _Ah, yes. Work._

With a missive burning a hole in his pocket, he hesitated. The lines between their friendship and their work were mapped out softly, hesitantly. Stepping into the Kuchiki-Estate was entering into neutral ground, where Renji was more than just a Fukutaicho. Even at work, with his sword or his brush in hand, the existence of this haven where they could be friends buzzed in the back of his mind. It was always so close, theoretically but also literally right there behind the division. 

It was hard to concentrate sometimes knowing that just out of reach there were warm wooden floors and sliding doors that skated open so easily, welcoming him in. 

It hurt to think of this space being inhabited by another, new person who meant something to Byakuya.

This garden had been the sunny centre of many happy memories, but he was the outsider all of a sudden. He was just the Fukutaicho, hanging in the doorway with banal work talk to break up this happy, happy day. For the first time in almost half a century, Renji felt like he didn't have a place there at all.

He turned and left. 

*

It took nearly two days to realise he couldn't avoid the problem.

Missing his routine dinners at the Kuchiki estate didn't help. Firstly, Renji was the type that got angry when he was hungry, and even the 6th division mess simply couldn't compare to dinner with nobility. Before he'd started eating at the estate, he'd had no idea that even _plain white rice_ came in 'normal' and 'fancy' varieties. Knowing his luck he'd miss his favourites: delicately smoked monkfish, those perfect slivers of pickled cucumber, and daifuku filled mochi for dessert. Renji and Rukia always ate Byakuya's share of dessert. But the thought of sitting through dinner and hearing the wedding plans made his stomach squirm. 

In his self-imposed isolation, he picked at his canteen dinner and meditated on the topic: why am I such a horrible friend, I should be happy for him. 

Sleeping on it didn't help. He went to bed somehow both hungry and nauseous, then lay there wide-eyed and lost at sea. The Vice-Captain's quarters were the highest point in the division - showy, designed to a Kuchiki's taste - probably for Soujun himself. They won the battle for most beautiful rooms in the division, but lost the war. Standing on his balcony, Renji could see the tree-lined walls and sense the quiet elegance of the estate next-door and his own lovely apartments paled in comparison. For the first few months as Fukutaicho, Renji had felt all vulnerable with his bedroom jutting up like a painted target above the otherwise gently sloping rooftops. Closing his eyes was like drifting high up into a too-big sky. 

Now, just as it had done then, that almost sea-sick vertigo kept him from sleep.

Fighting through it didn't help. Renji woke up with pain digging behind his eyes. It was the sort of ache he usually solved with cold water and fresh air. Instead it stuck, like ink stains in the dry skin of his sword-calloused hands. Being a resilient sort, Renji expected the same of others. However, today the pressure of his reiatsu collapsed on the practice hall and he couldn't summon the will to lift it. By the time he lowered his sword, the room smelled sweaty and the walls were lined with more drop-outs than normal. He didn't corral them as he normally would. Renji's sweat felt cold and grimy, like he was coming down with something. 

His third seat, Kirara, came running up to him as he was wrapping his hands for close-quarter combat practice. She was all fine lines like the noble house she came from. Her big smile didn't quite match her delicate bone structure - made for sneering. She was one of only a few that didn't look broken after Renji's Zanjutsu training sessions normally, but today she was pale and apprehensive. 

"Abarai Fukutaicho," she greeted with a bow. Renji just nodded in greeting.  
"Shall I get you the usual hangover remedy? I can take the Hakuda class this morning, if you want to just shut yourself in the office for a while?" she asked, without judgement. 

Renji turned away. Kirara always read his moods with impeccable accuracy, even if she didn't understand his motivations or thought processes. "Yeah, you best take them through drills. I'll only end up gettin' frustrated with the baby ones," he sighed. Renji struggled with people that didn't learn the same way he did: by taking a hit and trying again. Kirara had learned from somewhere to be an accommodating teacher, once she'd put a few of the tougher thugs on the floor to set the tone for a practice. 

"Yes, sir. I'll send your Super Special Abarai Recovery Tonic to your office," she bowed again.  
"Don't worry, I'm not hungover."  
"Oh...." she hovered, nose crinkling and something stern creeping into her thin eyebrows. "Then did you and Zabimaru have a fight? Your reiatsu seems...off, Sir."

That sent a shock of anxiety right to his core. Was it? Was that why he couldn't bring himself to reign it in this morning? When was the last time he’d even had a good chat with Zabimaru? "Dismissed, Third Seat," he muttered and stalked away, white knuckle grip on his sword. 

Shutting the office door behind him, he pressed his will towards his sword in silent greeting but Zabimaru just growled. It rattled around deep in his head, making the ache behind his eyes spike into sharp pain. _We both woke up on the wrong side of the bed, today, eh?_ he thought. He'd have to try again later. Renji knew that being upset or emotional had an effect on Zabimaru too, and lord knows he was both of those things right now. 

He was going to have to suck it up and try and put things right. Which meant it was time to talk to Rukia, and he'd rather do it at the division than risk seeing her at the estate that evening.

Thirteenth division hadn't really changed when Rukia took it over. She respected her previous Taicho too much for that. Renji often wondered whether being out in the middle of a lake had made Ukitake-Taicho's illness worse, but the water suited Rukia, so it sort of all worked out in the end. 

"Ojama shimasu," he called, not waiting for a reply. He knew Kuchiki-Taicho the 2nd (or mini, as Renji had gotten away with calling her a grand total of once) would be drinking tea at this time of day. Rukia expressed the usual fake irritation she put on whenever Renji missed dinner, then set about brewing ginger tea. Maybe she assumed hangover too. 

"So, it's congratulations all around then?" Renji said when the tea was in front of him. He tried to appear annoyed that he'd found out on his own and then watched Rukia fumble, blushing and looking at the floor. "How did you know?" she asked, tangling her fingers around the thin gold necklace she'd started wearing recently. "Hard to miss an army of servants squealing over betrothal gifts. Which were all disgustingly appropriate of course," Renji sighed.  
"Nothing but the best for a Kuchiki," Rukia replied, perking up enough to grin slyly at him.

Renji considered clamping his jaw shut against the inappropriate questions threatening to tumble out of him, but a direct approach usually worked better between them. "Why didn't either of you tell me? Seems like the sort of thing you'd tell your best friend..." he said, knowing that Rukia would see he was hurting. He just hoped it looked like the 'friend feeling a bit betrayed' sort of hurting rather than full-on 'my heart is breaking'. _Ah, that's what this is._ He sipped his tea.

"Is that why you've been sulking?" Rukia asked. "It's been a long time coming, Renji. Big stuff like this...it's nice to have a secret just for yourself for a while. You know, whilst you get used to it?" she dropped the chain she'd been fiddling with and put her hand over Renji's, squeezed. Her hand was cold like always, but it was comforting. Renji supposed that's what you got with an ice zanpakuto. 

Of course, what she said made sense. What was it, 150 years of being a widower, now? It always came back to Hisana in the end, he supposed. Byakuya had been on his own so long, he'd need time to wrestle with all that and get his head straight. And the bride, whoever she was, had a lot of baggage to deal with as the new wife. He could see the merits of having time to themselves, just being engaged. 

Renji wasn't family, not really, so what more could he expect? If Byakuya had come to him before the engagement, as a friend, and asked advice, it would have only broken his heart sooner. And Byakuya would have been right there to see it. 

"There'll be a party, right?" he asked, eyes trained on the pale yellow tea. It had sort of calmed his stomach after all.  
"Yes, a yuino. It's kind of formal but you'll come right?" she said, looking genuinely nervous. Understandable given his track record with formal noble events. Last time he'd had to borrow clothes. 

Shit. He'd definitely have to borrow clothes. 

"Of course, how could I not?"

*

His favourite corner of sixth division was the gardens, these days. They were a little wild compared to the estate, and not as 'established', whatever gardeners meant by that, but there were plenty of red maple trees and scuffed gravel pathways to get lost down, which suited Renji. 

He'd already planned to do some bonding with Zabimaru after their tiff earlier, but peace and quiet sounded even more appealing now at the end of a hard day. Talking to Rukia left him feeling very present and sensitive to the world around him, probably because it was now desperately _real_ that the man he loved was getting married. 

Under the shelter of the smallest pavilion, surrounded by glowing firey leaves, he went through the ritual of drawing Zabimaru from his belt, placing the point down and then twisting until the sword lay against the tatami. He bowed once, forehead following hands to the mat and back, then closed his eyes and tried to relax. The wind whipped up, catching his hair so that it tickled against his throat. 

Renji hadn't believed in meditation by sitting still, as a general rule, until he'd been coaxed into an afternoon just sat in silence with his Captain. One silent, perfect afternoon in those bright green early days of dinner twice a week and sparring after their shift was over. 

Even with practice, it was generally a hard-fought battle. Before opening the connection to Zabimaru, Renji examined himself. _Beaten up_ was his first thought, but without the bruises to show for it. He'd always learnt best by being shown how, and heartbreak was a new one on him. So he'd learn from it. They were colleagues, though, and this was affecting his work. He had to find a way to separate the two. 

"That is where you've failed," the snake hissed. Renji started, not having invited his Zanpakuto into the conversation yet. The voice was faint, a little garbled. "Nice of you to actually talk to me...So...what do you mean I've failed?"  
"You have been pining too long, it has made you weak. We have noticed you changing," the baboon grumbled, and there were dizzying echoes.  
"Changing?"  
"Your energy is different, since you decided not to fight for him," they both said, growling now and hissing in unison so it was almost impossible to hear them.  
"It's not a battle I'd win," Renji snapped, more than a little frustrated at how much concentration this was taking.  
"You have always fought for what you want, yet in this, you have already admitted defeat," the baboon explained, attempting patience. Renji thought he understood where they were coming from, but it hardly mattered. Byakuya was getting married.  
"Well, it's a moot point now."  
"It is not," Zabimaru boomed, thundering in his head in a good imitation of the headache from this morning. Renji bowed his head, apologising to the sword and wincing for himself.  
"Senbonzakura is lonely. They are not overjoyed by this news," the snake said in a whisper. 

Renji's heart thumped hard, like it was reminding him it could.

"How can you tell?".  
"We have always listened to Senbonzakura. The one they serve is close to you, so we have been close to them."  
"And things haven't changed, lately? For Senbonzakura?"  
"No."  
"And Kuchiki-Taicho...."  
"We cannot tell his feelings. You must find out on your own."

That was, apparently, the last Zabimaru had to say on the subject. 

It was true that Renji lived by fighting - crawling up through the Rukongai, busting his ass at the academy, beating his way out of eleventh, almost dying to achieve Bankai. Then what? He survived. Then stalled. He'd watched Rukia take Captaincy and stayed beside Byakuya because he couldn't leave. Watched life go past him. 

He'd given up on his feelings so quickly on seeing those betrothal gifts. For what? For who? Some unnamed noble woman with good manners and no understanding of what it was like to have Byakuya's back. Renji had bled for him and carried him home bleeding. It was where he wanted to be. 

So he'd fight for it. 

*

Renji had bought a thin black box to keep Ginpaku Kazahana no Uzuginu inside, then left it forgotten in the back of his wardrobe for a long count of years. He waited until the next morning to dig it out and make his move. He wiped a thumb through the dust on the box and brought back its mirror shine. There was a strip of cedar folded up in the scarf, which didn't do much to detract from the deep russet bloodstains along its length. 

_Yes_ hissed Zabimaru. _Show him how far we have come to claim him._

Renji slipped the box in the front of his kimono. He'd chosen the best clothes he had, which was coincidentally a deep crimson kimono Rukia had gifted him. Between the loose red mane of his hair, the deep black ink of his tattoos, and the storm-grey silk of his hakama, he hoped he would be difficult to refuse. Or at least difficult to dismiss. He slipped Zabimaru into his obi all the same and scaled over the back wall of the division whilst everyone else was training. 

Without his uniform, he was flying, more himself than he'd been in years. Something roguish came back to him, jumping over fences and skittering through buildings until he reached the high walls of the Kuchiki-estate. 

Now was the time for bravery though, so he made himself walk around to the front gate. "Abarai-Fukutaicho?" the steward said. He was tiny and lined, having to look up at Renji even whilst standing on the high step into the house.

"It's just Abarai Renji, today, Seijiro," he said, kicking off his geta and stepping up. "Where's he at?" he asked, already starting down the corridor into the cloistered parts of the house.

Seijiro gaped a little, then scurried after him when it became obvious that he was just going to wander around until he found Byakuya himself. "Kuchiki-sama is in the study, Fuku...Abarai- _san_ ," he mumbled. "Are you well? You were expected for dinner the last two nights..."  
"I'm fine, thanks Seijiro. Is he on his own?"  
"Yes...he-"

All Renji could think was _thank fuck the bride-to-be isn’t with him_. 

"Thanks, I'll show myself through," Renji grinned and Seijiro seemed to give up. There was something comical about his expression, like he thought he'd taught Renji some proper manners over the years and was supremely disappointed to find those efforts wasted. That could even be true, Renji thought, straightening his collar and then straightening it again. 

It had taken years for Renji to learn the language of the house and what conversations to have in what rooms. He'd save his mischievous quips up for the garden when Byakuya was most relaxed and only make controversial recommendations in formal settings where they'd be taken seriously.

The study was on the fringes of the family apartments Renji had visited only a handful of times, so private and quiet where they were wrapped up at the heart of the estate. The study was an acceptable venue for guests but private enough to send them away again them on a whim. 

Recommending himself was pretty controversial, which made the study less than ideal, he thought, standing on the wrong side of the door. There was nothing for it, though. He knelt, called out his apologies with only the slightest tremor to his voice, and slid open the door. 

Sat in front of calligraphy that flowed almost illegibly through the characters of a never-ending journey towards self improvement, Kuchiki-Taicho was at his desk with a dry looking slab of a book in his hand. A sheaf of papers at his elbow and ink still wet in the ink stone told Renji he'd just finished his duties. The doors to the garden were open to let in the last of the year's warmth, but the sky was grey. Seijiro normally announced him, and Renji could tell Byakuya was already thrown just hearing him calling out for himself. 

"Renji, where have you been? We wanted to tell you-"

_We._

"Byakuya," he breathed, and watched violet eyes flicker in alarm. 

It had the desired effect, Byakuya's mouth clicked shut, lips pursed in vague disapproval at the use of his first name. He couldn't argue, there were unspoken rules after all, that here in the estate he was not just a soldier, not just a subordinate. Renji's palms were sweating, though, just from speaking the name. 

What was he _doing_? 

He knelt at the table and slipped the box across the gap between them. 

_Sort of proposing, maybe?_

Byakuya stared at the offering, utterly dumbfounded. "What is this?" he said, shutting his book and setting it on the floor next to him. 

"I heard about the wedding," Renji began. 

"Good, I-"

"Please. I've got somethin' to say."

It was patently obvious that Kuchiki Byakuya was not used to be interrupted. Especially not twice. Not even by his hot-headed Fukutaicho. He raised an eyebrow and waited for Renji to continue. Which was precisely the point when sweat started to prickle Renji's back. He dropped his gaze and put his hands in his lap, twisting them up in his hakama to hide the shaking. He reminded himself that in this moment they were men not soldiers, and started to speak. 

"Before you get married to someone on your clan's orders, I needed to tell you that I love you. I don't know if you could ever think of me that way, but I think you should be with someone that knows you and knows what it's like to stand next to you. Someone like me," he said without breath, then looked up. Byakuya was almost comically still, eyes wide and mouth a thin line, but Renji wasn't done. 

"You gave me your scarf as a sign of respect. And I'm giving it back as a sign of my feelings for you, Kuchiki-Taicho," he finished, losing his strength at the end and slipping back into what was familiar.

Byakuya's gaze wandered down to the shiny black box. He took off the lid, touched the fabric inside hesitantly, like making up after falling out. His eyes shone silver just looking at it, and Renji thought how beautiful he was, off-duty in his house clothes and off-kilter from the confession. 

"Renji..." it came out in a whisper. 

Renji took a long, shaky breath in through his nose before he caught Byakuya's eye. 

"I am not getting married. Rukia is engaged to Ichigo."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it took me 4,000 words before they even talked to each other, yay. We love a slow burn, right? 
> 
> My headcanon is that the Kuchiki Estate is absolutely joined onto 6th division, and the whole thing operates like an aristocratic Samurai household with a not-quite-private army of Shinigami attached.
> 
> You know how I _love_ some samurai household porn. And if you don't, today's your lucky day! I've got a 50k-word-long ode on this very subject, with angst! And romance! [ Here you are!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24559264/chapters/59308561)
> 
> Opening quote is from Tale of Genji.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprising affection at the engagement party.

####  _Would that, like a ring upon my hand, I might turn time round until "then" was "now"._

_How the hell did I end up here?_

Renji's head swam, trying to piece together how he'd stumbled into this arse-backwards. He was relieved to see that Byakuya's expression had gone from utter incomprehension to controlled faux-calm. The kind he often displayed after a traumatic ordeal. 

"The betrothal gifts..." Renji mumbled.   
"Ichigo is a Shiba. They are very rich, and have been very generous."  
"But you said about the elders not needing to pest you anymore?"  
"They won't. Now that Rukia is getting married she is a much easier target for their attention."  
"But Rukia said....."

But Rukia _hadn't_ said, had she? Renji had filled in the gaps in the conversation with his own wild assumptions. He groaned and dropped his head into his hands. 

The level of embarrassment was clingy and sickening. There was a small library of memories that Renji's brain liked to serve up to him late at night for his own mortification. This was a strong candidate for the collection. Sometimes he tried to replay memories until they worked better - until he made the right argument or came across like a more sensible human. The replays on this one would be....interesting. 

The room was deafeningly silent. Byakuya wasn't the type to try and save him from messes of his own making. Renji loved that about him. So, he did the self-sacrificing thing he always did, with the hope that he'd learn from it. "You can just ignore me, forget this happened."  
"I'm not sure I can," the noble replied.   
"Please, please forget."  
"If that is what you wish, I will try."

It was hardly the resounding success he'd hoped for. When he stood to leave, he bowed so deep his hair fell in a red shield around him, like a shield. 

"Sorry for embarrassing you, Kuchiki-sama," Renji said, eyes fixed on his own feet. There was a hesitation that he absolutely hated with every fibre of his being. 

"It is forgiven, and forgotten, Renji."

Forgotten. Embarrassed. Those sentiments unravelled after him when he took his leave, the frayed ends of his feelings leaving a thread of hurt behind. 

*

"Renji! I'm coming in!" 

It was technically his day off, and he needed it desperately. He'd intended on stuffing his head under his pillow and not moving until dinner time. Now, he was faced with Rukia, and a whole raft of anxiety. Did she know? Had Byakuya spoken to her? What would he even say? 

Her tiny feet stepped into his field of vision and he resisted pulling the duvet up over his head. 

"This is important. I refuse to talk to you about it whilst you're lazing around half naked in bed."

That sounded like either a telling off or one of those painful heartfelt conversations that left Renji pink and scrubbed raw. He groaned and sat up.

"I'll get your breakfast. I guess it still technically counts as breakfast..." Rukia snorted, having the decency to leave whilst Renji rolled out of bed and sulked behind the privacy screen to put on his loudest pink yukata. Yes, still wrapping himself in cherry blossoms. He moped. 

Breakfast was fried fish and rice, with the standard thin, cafeteria-warm bowl of miso soup on the side. What Renji really wanted was waffles and bacon. Rukia sipped at her soup, waiting until Renji had wolfed down half of his food before she even tried to have a conversation with him. A wise move. 

"So, the Yuino next week..." Rukia started and Renji held his breath. "I've spoken to Nii-sama and I'd like you both to be there, as my brothers."

He suddenly had to swallow the lump in his throat. 

"You two are my family. It feels right."

When he looked up, Rukia's eyes were a little glassy and she was carefully examining the table. 

"That'd be awesome," he replied. "Really awesome. What do I need to do?"  
"Oh, it's just a dinner, and exchanging gifts. Nii-sama has all the gifts sorted already."  
"And Kuchiki-Taicho knows you've asked me to be there with you?"  
"He agreed that it was a good idea. The best idea," she smiled and it was a little wobbly. 

Renji could only nod dumbly at that. It was just like Byakuya to put aside personal concerns for Rukia's happiness. He was an incredibly doting older brother, as if he was still trying to make up for something. Like a sword to the chest wasn't enough. 

"Did you know that Ichigo proposed properly, with a ring and everything? Living world style?" she smiled. Renji had to grin at that mental image. He always thought it looked silly and overly showy, in those romance novels and television dramas he'd seen on trips to Karakura. 

Rukia fished the gold necklace out of her collar and revealed a delicate band with a single diamond, sparkling merrily. Renji could have hit himself for not making the connection earlier. "I know you were upset the other day that he didn't tell you or anything, but I think he was embarrassed at just how romantic it all was. It was a complete surprise, honestly."  
"Nah, Rukia I get it. Sorry for being weird about it."  
"I hope you find someone that can make you this happy, too."  
"Brute like me? I'm a soldier through and through, can you really imagine me getting down on one knee like that, all mushy?" _No_ Renji thought, _I present my love with a bloodstained scrap of fabric._

Rukia's laugh was all tinkling ice and spring water, bringing him sharply out of his melancholy. It meant a lot, that she was happy. 

*

The night before the Yuino, Renji endured his second awkward dinner at the Kuchiki estate since the confession. 

He'd dragged himself there only because he was hoping to borrow some good clothes for the occasion. There was no way his silk dress uniform would cut it, and his next best thing was the red he'd worn to tell Kuchiki Byakuya he was in love with him. None of his other friends would have anything quite good enough. So, between looking out of place and asking Rukia, he chose the lesser of two social faux-pas. 

Seijiro pulled a deep forest green outfit from storage that Rukia had her heart set on for some reason. Renji assumed the outfit belonged to some distant uncle or other, as it was actually broad enough to fit him. But when he shouldered into the kimono on the morning of the Big Event, he caught faint sakura sweetness clinging to the robe and his brain stuttered to a halt. Renji couldn't help but think of these same robes pressed against Byakuya's bare skin. The sleeves fell short enough on his wrist that it _just might_ be the truth. 

He shook the sensation away. It wouldn’t do to be thinking about it all day - how awkward would that be, sitting right next to the man himself at dinner?

Green was the right choice, because Rukia and Byakuya were both wearing blue with painted cranes in flight, and together the three of them looked like bright jewels in the midst of delicately embroidered Shiba greys and sunrise yellows. 

Ichigo was wearing an outfit that looked suspiciously like his bankai all those years ago, except less tattered. He was trying hard not to smile fondly at Rukia every time he thought nobody was looking. Renji made a game of grinning back lasciviously, just to put him off. Rukia found this hilarious.

It turned out the gifts were displayed in the bamboo room after all. Renji had to laugh at that. He stood with Rukia as they handed Ichigo a fancy striped set of hakama and Rukia had a intricate floral obi in return. All dripping with symbolism - fidelity, longevity, constancy and all those other good things that Rukia deserved. 

Dinner itself was in seven courses, each of them snack sized parcels of concentrated deliciousness. Renji wasn't sure what some of it even was, and didn't have the courage to ask Byakuya on his left. Mostly because the Kuchiki elder on his right spent the first three courses just tutting at everything he did. He was Rukia's brother, today, so he tried not to let it bother him. Today, he could slouch and smack his lips and gesture for another bowl of sake to his heart's content. They couldn't say _a word_.

Theoretically. 

In reality, the elder decided to voice his complaints at about course five. 

"Kuchiki-sama," he hissed, leaning around Renji mid-mouthful. "You must tell this man to eat with more propriety."

Byakuya wore a look of feigned confusion, but Renji saw irritation in the line of his shoulders. Cold violet eyes flicked over Renji where he was sat, in a mildly passable seiza if he didn't say so himself. "I fail to see the problem," Byakuya said and turned back to talk to Rukia. It did not invite further comment. 

The curmudgeon to his right didn't take this cue.

"I _fail to see_ why we must endure such low company," he muttered. It was loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. 

Before Renji could hang his head, or growl, or fall out of seiza in protest, Byakuya was pressing in at his elbow. He gracefully refilled Renji's sake bowl, left hand holding back his sleeve to expose the curved bones of his wrist. He didn't say anything, just inclined his head to Renji and retreated. 

Serving him drinks was a sign of respect, cutting through the nuances of Renji being an honoured guest and yet adopted family, a Vice-Captain amongst soldiers rather than a commoner stuck between his 'betters'. 

Byakuya surreptitiously slipped his second sweet course in Renji's direction behind a sleeve. Compensation? Or designed to cause further irritation to the more judgemental guests? Byakuya's shows of solidarity were always subtle to the room and obvious to Renji. They both knew the elders wouldn't change their tune, so Byakuya did his best to make Renji feel welcome despite them. 

There had been a time when he hadn't been able to count on such support - a few dinners in those early days when he had to fend for himself. It had all changed when they'd spent three months venturing into Rukongai together with 6th division. 

Rebuilding was one thing, but they'd been there to make things _better_. Fundamental changes to the social norms of Rukongai proved challenging, but Byakuya applied his quick mind to the task. Mountains of Kuchiki money were poured into schools and scholarships and orphanages in an attempt to make things better for the next generation coming up. 

Renji didn’t miss Byakuya’s deep concern when they came across malnourished kids roaming in packs. He never asked Renji what it had been like though, he’d probably never asked Hisana or Rukia either. 

People looked at them with wide-eyed awe; one of their own with an armband tied proudly over his sleeve, and one of _them_ playing shogi with wizened old men and hiding snacks in his pockets for children. Renji fell hard for the second time watching Byakuya intentionally losing at hana fuda and dice games to a gaggle of grubby ten years olds.

Good memories helped to tune out the buzz of disapproval until the food was cleared away and Renji could finally excuse himself. 

He slipped out into the courtyard and kept walking until he reached the bridge over the koi pond, which happened to be just out of sight of the grand hall they'd eaten in. He was surprised, however, to find that someone had followed him. 

"Kuchiki-Taicho? You don't need to check on me. I'm good, I just wanted some air," Renji said.   
“I understand, and quite honestly I felt the same. My family is an experience, even to the initiated, as you well know.”  
“Oh...good, I was worried I’d let the side down, leaving like that...”  
“You have never let Rukia down,” Byakuya said and Renji’s chest tightened, even as he noticed how awkward his companion looked, hovering just a little too far away for a normal conversation. 

When Byakuya shook out his sleeves and walked forward, it reminded Renji of a heron disturbed from wading. There was something regal about it. Byakuya tentatively took up position next to Renji, watching the koi circling in the pond below the bridge. "Seriously....I really didn't want this to be awkward. If you give me a bit of time, things can go back to normal,” Renji offered, trying not to let it sting, how stilted this was all of a sudden.

"You don't need to fret. I respect your feelings...I-" Byakuya faltered, and took a breath for himself. Renji wasn't quite sure where this was going. It made his pulse beat faster. 

"You must excuse me, Renji. It's just that I'm not sure I understand how you've come to feel this way, after all that has passed between us." Renji turned, looking at Byakuya even as he continued to look away. He had his hands hidden away in his sleeves, but it wasn't cold under the shelter of the swaying trees, tips just catching the breeze about the buildings. 

“You better not be talking about old history, cos you’ve saved my ass plenty of times since then.” 

Byakuya was stubbornly silent. Renji knew what he was really asking: what do you see in me? In what ways do you love me? How deeply?

Of _course_ Byakuya was asking this of him. Still, after his colossal misunderstanding, how bad could it be to crack himself open and spill out the truth of his feelings? To indulge Byakuya's curiosity. Maybe he could do it on his own terms, at least. 

He turned his back on the path deeper into the gardens and stepped closer, pressing a hand to Byakuya's chest and feeling his breath stutter.

“Look, I love you _because_ of everything we’ve been through. But what chance did I have anyway, you’re...you’re peerless, in just about every way. You’re talented and beautiful and you give as good as you get with me, you're honest....I dunno, standing next to you and judging myself by your standards made me better. I didn’t tell you before because I love being your friend, or whatever we are.” Byakuya’s eyes flicked up at that, just a glance. 

“But I guess I can’t ignore that I want more of your time and your attention, just for me. I want to sit and admire how incredible you are and not need an excuse.” Renji had to hold himself back from sifting his fingers through Byakuya’s hair, or adjusting his collar just to see the reaction. 

“There's nobody else for me, Taicho. Nobody compares," Renji said, hand curling in the soft silk of Byakuya's uniform. 

"Why are you calling me that, Renji. I am not your Captain here," Byakuya asked, not meeting Renji's gaze. He sounded frustrated at having to speak about their rules. Renji had always suspected that Byakuya had a much more intricate set of guidelines for himself - to make this work, despite the differences of rank and status. 

"Should I say your name instead?" Renji needled, goading him to _look_ again. Renji felt Byakuya swallow where his hand pressed up under his collarbone, but he didn't speak. "I’ve had a good talk with Zabimaru recently. He says Senbonzakura is lonely, which I reckon means you're lonely too, Byakuya," Renji muttered, letting the name trip from the back of his throat, whisper between his teeth. 

There was a flutter of dark eyelashes at the sound of his own name on Renji's lips. Byakuya was leaning almost imperceptibly into Renji's hand, looking at him with a flicker of _something_. Perhaps fear, perhaps pain. 

He moved his hand to tip Byakuya's chin up, and the noble didn't stop him. Their height difference was more pronounced this close, with Renji peering down into the Captain's face. Byakuya was breathing hard through his nose but he still let himself be lead, his eyelids falling closed as Renji dipped closer. 

As much as Renji would have loved to describe it as only the _first_ electric, thrilling, soft press of lips, there wasn't a second. Byakuya was pulling away again before it really started, turning his back on Renji. 

It left him in little doubt, overall, of Byakuya's feelings on the matter. Just a lingering hint of what might have been, the scent of something rich and spicy. It was quite at odds with the trembling reiatsu spinning between them. 

He panicked. 

"I promise I'll never to do that again."

Silence.

"I don't want you to hate me. I want to keep spending time with you...and Rukia and Ichigo," Renji gabbled, as it all came back to him. He was gambling with high stakes. It had been worth it, perhaps, to shoot his shot. 

"It's alright Renji," Byakuya said, in the very final, decisive Captain's voice Renji had always responded best to. 

Renji shivered, watching Byakuya walk away, back to the celebration. As he picked his way through the garden, his fingers whispered over flowers and through the long fronds of leaves stretching over the path. It was a gentle parting. 

*

Three jars of sake at Eleventh Division was as good as six jars elsewhere. Unless it was Kyoraku's private store, that shit snuck up at you. You knew exactly what you were getting with sake at the eleventh division: cheap and strong. Which meant you knew exactly when to stop. If you were being sensible, that is. 

Renji felt distinctly un-sensible.

He'd been polite like sixth division taught him, and he'd tried being true to himself too. Now there was the eleventh division way, which meant drink. 

The tipping point of his evening had been the rumours. The whole of eleventh division was buzzing with rumours that Rukia was getting married and that Renji and Byakuya fell out over it. Who knows _where_ they got that information from, but they weren't about to stand by social niceties. They straight up asked him about it to his goddamn face. 

It ranged from a reasonably respectable "Oi, Abarai Fukutaicho, what did you do to piss off the Kuchiki?" to downright rude "Eh, Abarai, how come you fell out with your pretty girlfriend?" He would have thrown a few punches, but there were apparently people in eleventh that respected him enough to beat down their squad-mates on his behalf. 

Even worse, some people made up conflict where there hadn't been any. They asked whether Renji had 'stepped in' when Kuchiki-Taicho had refused Kurosaki permission to marry Rukia. They checked to make sure Renji was 'allowed' to go to the wedding because it was being held at the Kuchiki estate. "The place I have dinner every other night? Yeah I'm going numbskull," was his response.

He'd put all of those old battles behind him, but everyone else still thought he was fighting them, apparently. 

Yachiru found him sitting on a table on his own, throwing peanut shells across the room at anyone who looked drunk enough not to notice who'd chucked them. He snorted at himself. Behaviour decidedly unbefitting of his station as a Sixth Division Vice-captain. 

"Eyebrows, why are your vibes all wrong?" she said, round face pillowed on her arms.   
"It's past your bedtime kid," he scowled.   
"Baldy says you've been all hinky for years now. He says maybe you're not getting enough real fights."  
"Baldy said that, did he?"  
"Mmm and Ken-chan says it's cos you got your balls snipped at 6th."

He saw red a little bit at that. Perhaps it was true. 

"And what do you reckon, squirt?"  
"I think you're sad. Don't worry eyebrows, you just need to get your mojo back," Yachiru mumbled, her eyes drifting closed. She was asleep in seconds, like a puppy that ran out of energy mid-stride.

Mojo sounded good. There had been flickers of mojo since he'd talked with Zabimaru. For a moment there he'd taken life by the collar and yanked it around a little. He'd shaken some sense into it again, just for a while. 

*

The idea was fully formed in his mind by the time he woke up the next day. Maybe his brain had taken the opportunity to do some thinking whilst the rest of him was occupied with drinking. 

Through the hangover haze, it seemed like a good idea. He needed a change, something to work towards. There'd been a lot of reminiscing the last few days, and it took him back to where he was needed most: protecting people. Rukia didn't need his protection anymore, the squad was full of competent people like Kirara, there was less protecting of souls to do these days. 

There were kids that needed him, though. Kids in Rukongai still going hungry. He had some money saved up, he figured maybe he could do something about that. 

His Good Idea crystalised into a Fucking Excellent Idea mid-way through the next laborious Ranked Officers meeting at first division. Standing just to the left and behind Byakuya, zoning out until the black-on-white writing in front of him blurred grey. 

Somewhere between Kyoraku talking about changes to the duty roster system and compulsory medical training rotations with 4th division, Renji realised he was trapped. He couldn't see an outcome where he'd be as happy and contented as Rukia looked in love and in life. 

So when Kyoraku-Soutaicho asked if there was any other business, Renji quite simply moved half a step forward and replied "Yes. I'm handing in my commission. I want to leave the Gotei."

The screeching wail of Byakuya's reiatsu had everyone reeling for a moment, and Renji lost all the air in his lungs at the weight of it. Then, just as abruptly, it winked out. Rukia's head whipped around to look at her brother and her mouth dropped open in shock. From where he was, Renji couldn't see his Captain's eyes to find the truth of it.

"Now, now, Bya-bo. I'm sure we're all upset, but Renji-san can't be serious," Kyoraku drawled.  
"I'm deadly serious," Renji snapped.   
"Come come, you see how much you've upset your Kuchikis?"

Rukia looked distraught but Byakuya had stamped on his reaction pretty fast. He wouldn't stumble again in front of the whole room.

One last chance, then. 

"If anybody wants to try and convince me to stay, be my guest. I'll give it til the end of the month," he said, and walked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Renji Sulks~  
> Yachiru: VIBE CHECK
> 
> Also featured in this week's update: my fixation with Japanese dress. I often think about how beautiful and varied the shared Kuchiki clothing vault would be. It would be immaculately catalogued like a library and organised by colour, seasonal appropriateness and levels of formality. 
> 
> "Ah yes, the green pines set. Silk ottoman, three piece. Autumnal. Semi/high formal. Size just reads 'BIG BOY'. It's perfect for Abarai-Fukutaicho."
> 
> Seijiro nods sagely. 
> 
> Opening lines courtesy of Prince Genji.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arguments, sulking, and standing up for yourself.

####  _Though I leave behind a world I cannot endure,  
My heart remains with him, still of that world.  
And will be muddied by it._

Rukia found him first, of course. She appeared out of shunpo, poised on the ridge tiles. Her shoulders dropped in relief seeing him. 

He was sprawled on the rooftop of his quarters. Flat on his back with no discernible reiatsu, he hoped it looked like he was hiding it. The truth was this his energy was in shaking tatters, a frail butterfly shiver in his gut. 

"Hey," she said, sitting down cross-legged next to him.  
"Get down here or we'll have other people visiting," he groused, yanking at her sleeve. She stretched out on her back with a sigh, hands folded over her stomach.  
"How can I help you, Kuchiki-Taicho?" he drawled.  
"I'm worried about you. I mean, what the hell was that in there?" Rukia said, peering up at him from shoulder height.  
"Did you ask your brother the same?" 

Rukia crinkled up her nose and looked back at the darkening sky. "No, he won't talk to me. He went straight to the estate and practically barricaded himself in."  
"Good to know we're both acting like prats," Renji sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands.  
"What's going on, Renji?"

It was about time to follow his own advise about communicating with your best friend and come clean.

"I'm completely in love with your brother, that's what." 

Rukia did a passable impression of her brother on hearing the same news. 

"When I saw the betrothal gifts I jumped to the wrong conclusion and made a complete arse of myself. I walked right in and confessed to him."  
"Renji..." Rukia groaned.  
"He just stared at me until I apologised and ran out of there, it was the worst."  
Rukia squeezed his shoulder, in a 'you are an idiot but I love you' way. 

"I've felt like this for years, Rukia. Zabimaru makes it sound like I'm fading away, losing my strength just moping around after him. Even Kirara noticed that something's off with my reiatsu," his throat was scratchy and he had to look up for a second, hold his breath. Zabimaru was howling somewhere far off in his head. "I just...at least before I could pretend I might stand a chance, but I can't face him now and we have to _keep working together._ "  
"He's your friend, Renji. This is obviously upsetting him, so perhaps you need to talk..."  
"No. I tried that."  
"Did you?"

Renji stayed stubbornly silent. Talking to Byakuya was hard at the best of times, he had no hope of holding his own. His words got twisted when they disagreed and he only found the right response too late - hours later. 

"Look, at least promise me you'll see 4th division if you're worried about your spirit energy, ok? For me?"  
"Alright...I can do that."

Rukia shifted up on her elbows, pulling something out of her sleeve. 

"I know you won't want this if you don't even want to talk to him, but Nii-sama asked me to give it to you. He didn't explain why," she said, pushing an envelope into this hands.  
"Thanks I guess."  
"Will you read it?" she pushed.  
"Yeah I'll read it."

"I love you both so much, I don't want this all to change," she whispered, curling up into his side.  
"Me neither kiddo," he said. 

They stayed on the roof until the cold got too much, the stars just starting to peek through the deep blue web of the sky. 

*

The letter turned out to be a summons. The official Captain to Vice-captain type, like back in the days when Kuchiki-Taicho assigned him cleaning duty and made him lead Kido training as if that would miraculously make him better at it. 

Except that this time he'd been summoned to see Kuchuki-Taicho at the _estate_.

It was all wrong. Byakuya’s home was meant to be for Ohanami celebrations and late nights around the fire pit listening to Rukia read stories. Yet here was a summons, written in black on headed paper right under the sixth division logo.

Boy did it make him mad. 

It was 9 o'clock at night but he didn't care, he slammed open the screen door and walked straight into Byakuya's quarters, spitting fire. Byakuya was half under a kotatsu in the corner of the room, looking delightfully undone with his hair down and only dressed in a simple arrow patterned kimono. It threatened to soften Renji's anger, so he squeezed his eyes shut and waded right in. 

"You don't got the right to summon me to your home like this," he snarled, brandishing the letter. "I want to be treated with some goddamn respect."

In the back of his head he knew it would be awful to have this muddy, tangled conversation in the division. Talking about it in Byakuya's private rooms was somehow worse, though. He would get absolutely nowhere when Byakuya felt like his space had been invaded. 

"I have the utmost respect for you Renji. As your friend and your Captain I wanted you to know how seriously concerned I am."  
"Most people show concern a little differently. Perhaps an 'are you ok, can I buy you a drink?' rather than 'you will submit to my severe displeasure at 8pm sharp'."

There was a guilty twist to Byakuya's mouth, and he tried to gesture for Renji to join him, dropping his shoulders and his frown. It would be so, so easy for Renji to acquiesce and sit. He ignored it.

"Given that you asked for some time....I didn't want to cross a line with you," Byakuya recited like he'd _practised_ this conversation. When this olive branch got him nowhere, the frown reappeared. "Truly, I didn't expect you to burst into my bedroom in reply."

Renji swallowed. There were too many lines and they were too easy to cross, he thought. Byakuya was better off speaking, because he had a better chance of not fucking it up. 

"You cannot leave."

It was _like_ an order, but with an earnest and impassioned lilt, barely hidden in Byakuya's voice.

"You ordering me to stay, Taicho?"  
“I can't do that. However, the feelings you have for me should not come in the way of your skills and everything you’ve worked for.”  
“With all due respect, it already is. I can’t do this anymore.”  
“If it is that bad, how did you survive all these years?”  
"You don’t believe me now? You need evidence? I sat on my feelings out of respect for the job and your position, our friendship, even your fucking ex-wife's memory." Byakuya's face darkened. "Would it have been any different if I'd thrown myself at you? You'd still have done exactly this; tell me I'm being foolish and that I’ll get over it."  
"Renji," Byakuya said, and it was icy.  
"No, no Renji." 

The balls on this man, summoning him like a Fukutaicho and then saying his first name like that, like he had any right when Renji shook with nerves doing the same in return, treasured the feel of it when he dared. 

"Why did you let me kiss you and why did you push me away? Am I not good enough?"  
"You are not listening to me."  
"That's cos you aren't _saying_ anything. You're impossible to read, but your reiatsu is honest enough at least. I don't expect big showy confessions...I mean, you’re not like that I get it....just....you can't even tell me you need me as your Vice-captain, can you?" Renji ran out of steam. 

This was the lowest bar he could set, and Byakuya still just sat there, looking at the floor with the same implacable expression on his beautiful face. He couldn't admit he'd liked the kiss, even though it had been in every minute detail, the fact that he'd even let Renji pull him in. 

"I deserve more than this," Renji growled. Byakuya was rising to follow. Renji knew it was impossible to outrun him, he couldn't even shunpo right now. 

But Byakuya seemed to think better of giving chase. Renji kept running and tried to ignore the familiar reiatsu left behind, even as it wavered, spiking menacingly, and then faded as he put some distance between them. 

*

Kirara was a mess. The meeting at 1st Division should have been closed-door, but the drama had gotten out somehow. 

The wild look in her face when he appeared for the start of his shift mid-morning spoke of long hours fielding awkward questions. Renji knew she was happy where she was, and the idea of promotion would be terrifying. There'd been some drama about her family still thinking this job was dangerous - danger that increased exponentially compared to your position, when really it was probably the opposite. 

"You've got me a for a few hours, then I've got to go to 4th for a bit," he said, offering himself up for questions.  
"Please tell me you're not this stupid?" she said.  
"'Fraid so," he laughed.  
"Well Kuchiki-Taicho won't let you leave." That was not a statement he wanted to address. However, her desperate face made him feel sympathetic, so he poured himself tea and took up a perch on the nearest desk. 

"You said it yourself, Third Seat, there's something not right with my energy. You're not the only one to notice it recently, but it's been under the radar for a long time. So I figured I need a change," he said, eyes steady on her. Delivering bad news was best done with an even, slow voice.

He tried not to panic when he saw the tears building in her eyes despite his best effort at calmness. She turned away to hide it. 

"You might as well go to 4th now, then, if I have to get used to running things without you," she said, laced with the sort of cold anger Renji wasn't used to from her. 

It was fair, dismissing him, so he slunk away. He wouldn't have done much work, truthfully. After getting back from yelling at his Captain the previous night he'd started throwing his clothes into boxes, tempted to leave straight away. The impetuousness had petered out. He'd decided instead to keep his promise to Rukia and see 4th the next day. 

He was actually nervous about going though. The paranoid part of his brain kept ticking over theories. What if he had some sort of rare problem that was unravelling him slowly? Would he still be able to use Zabimaru, if this carried on? 

Isane’s stride was so long Renji jogged a little to catch her up. He bowed, asked for her help and she nodded kindly, despite looked harried. Beckoned along behind her, Renji followed the Captain around on the last of her rounds before being herded into a small room that definitely wasn't her office. 

Sitting him down on a bench, she put her strong, tanned hands on his shoulders and closed her eyes. Her gentle face looked wrong when twisted in concentration and concern, but it didn't last long. "Well, I'm surprised you've come and bothered me with this, Abarai-san," she said, showing a hint of teeth around a knowing smile. "After your outburst at the meeting yesterday I thought there must be something wrong, but this.....isn't what I expected." Well, he blushed, at least that meant it wasn't anything serious. 

"Heartache is something our healers deal with a lot of, amongst the lower ranks. I've never had a Captain-level shinigami come to me with it though."

_Ah_

He dipped his head and scratched his nose. 

"True, these things are more pronounced and more dangerous when you have more spiritual energy. You do seem to be very out of balance.....are you sleeping ok?"  
"Err....so so."  
"Eating regularly?"  
"Yeah, non-stop like normal."

She sighed and sat down on the bench next to him. "I'm not going to make any guesses about what's happening. Running away isn't going to solve it, though, and I'm surprised at you really. You're good at being brave and facing-down your problems, Abarai-san." The playful cuff to his shoulder was a nice touch, and he smiled. 

"I am recommending that you spend an hour communing with Zabimaru every day for the next few weeks, just to sure up that connection. We can find a lot of strength in that bond, even when everything else is going pear-shaped, ne?"

Renji nodded. 

"And as your friend, I suggest you tackle your....problem...head on."

*

Making an executive decision to take the afternoon off, Renji tried to meditate. Doctor's orders or whatever. 

He took the time to plait his hair and get changed. He burnt incense in his room and left the door open then took a seat out on the covered balcony encircling his rooms. When the wind blew a hint of spice spun out to greet him. There was cold air in his lungs and the buzz of soldiers two stories below. It was spitting rain. Drops fell one at a time on the roof tiles and the railings, jolting him sporadically out of his pleasant white noise. 

The connection to Zabimaru still seemed fuzzy - like someone had turned up the bass on a stereo. 

If he hadn't been sat outside he wouldn't have heard the conversation at all. Kirara was somewhere below in the small courtyard in front of the offices, speaking to someone very carefully. He tried not to listen in, keeping his eyes closed. Then came the word ‘Taicho’.

"No Taicho, he's off duty but he only just got back from 4th division."

He couldn't make out the deep, rumbling reply but he recognised Byakuya's tone. 

"Yes, Taicho. He went to see 4th-division about the problem with his reiatsu." 

There was a moment's hesitation this time, before the Captain's reply. Then Kirara's clipped, ringing voice echoed up off the buildings. 

"What do you mean? Did Taicho not know?"

Renji's eyes flew open. 

Kuchiki-Taicho said something short and questioning.

"You didn't...how could you not notice, Taicho?” She sounded shrill, but her courage was growing and with it she started shouting. “I know that you're busy, but Abarai-Fukutaicho and you...You're meant to be partners! And now whatever is happening to him is so bad he's leaving! Did you even try to stop him?"

He never thought he'd ever hear anyone but himself talk to Byakuya like that. Kirara had real guts. Maybe it was some sort of leftover aristocratic entitlement - deserving to be listened to?

Much to his surprise, there was no spiking reiatsu, no clipped, threatening response. 

“I’m not sure he wants to see anyone,” the third seat said. Like a hammer coming down with conviction but wobbling as it struck. Third seats didn’t refuse their captain's entry to squad buildings. Renji should intervene.

He scrambled to the railing in time to see Byakuya turn smartly on his heel and walk away. Kirara collapsed against the office wall like a puppet with cut strings. 

The little open square was empty otherwise - because of the time of day or because everyone had scrambled in Byakuya's wake. Renji took the steps three at a time and caught Kirara dragging herself back into the Division Office. She blanched seeing him and then went very green. "You did good, kid. Let's get you some tea with plenty of honey, yeah?" he said, pushing her into a chair. 

Her hands were trembling a little when she took the cup and she didn't even make a face at the sweetness. 

"So. You win the award for Brave but Stupid Act of the Year," Renji said with an impressed nod. "As the sole custodian of this award so far in the history of 6th, I've got to extend my congratulations."  
"What the hell have I done?" she laughed, vaguely hysterically. Renji's jokes weren't helping, then.  
"I'm gonna take it as an act of loyalty, which is pretty flattering..." he tried again.  
"I'm so screwed," she dropped her face into her hand, tea forgotten. 

Renji knew how to fix this situation. It would cause him some personal discomfort, but Kirara really didn't deserve to be dragged into this mess. 

"Look, I've got your back. If you write me a nice, official apology on the fancy headed paper, I'll run it over to the estate and explain everything, ok?" he said, eyes on the shift rota and division announcements pinned to the wall. 

"You would do that?" Kirara breathed. The wonder on her face was enough for Renji to not care about his own reputation anymore. 

She was reaching for paper and brush the moment he nodded. Her handwriting was good, Renji thought, watching her work. She took her time, and there were a lot of complicated looking long, humble sentences in that ridiculous level of honorific language Renji never used unless he was writing to 1st division. 

Kirara actually bowed and handed the folded letter to him with two hands, all proper-like. He laughed and went to tuck the letter into the front of his robes. Disapproval passed over her face and he stopped, rubbing the back of his neck and laughing again. "I won't, I won't. Promise it'll arrive in pristine condition," he sighed.  
"If I didn't know how efficient you actually are at running this division, I would wonder why the Captain put up with you..." she snarked, lips pursed. 

_Well._ There were several things he could have said about that. Firstly, Renji had always been relatively good at running things (it was a wonder 11th division hadn't collapsed after he'd left). Secondly, he'd had a long time to practice and meet 6th division's standards. Thirdly, even if he had a problem at this point, Byakuya didn't have the patience to teach anyone new about all the rules for dealing with the estate staff. Which cut to the heart of it - Renji hadn't really been sure why Byakuya put up with him for those first three decades or so. In response, he'd tried really hard. 

"I'm not very clear on that either, Third Seat," was what he actually said. Which was perhaps too truthful. 

He spent a few hours killing time by practising yoga in his room - it was close enough to meditation, he figured. Then he walked very slowly to the estate. It still only took him a grand total of 7 minutes. Two hours and forty-seven minutes would be enough time for Byakuya to calm down, right?

Letter carefully slipped between the fingers of his right hand, he presented himself at the front door. 

One of the younger lads ran off to find Seijiro and when he appeared, the house steward looked way too happy to see him. The old man beckoned him into the house with energetic flapping. "Abarai-Fukutaicho, please come in. His lordship is in the old Wayfarer room," Seijiro said, then "You can stay for dinner." 

Food and a warm welcome? Suspicious. And the Wayfarer room? Wasn't that the room with the mural of travelling warrior monks fighting through a snow storm? Definitely bad juju. Renji had only seen it once - it was on the colder site of the estate, and therefore only used when you were prepared to be vaguely uncomfortable and spend the next three hours sneezing out dust. 

The room felt about as icy as the painting on the northern wall looked. The Captain was looking at a shogi board with the sort of loud fury that could bring down an avalanche. Seijiro hovered at the doorway and chewed his cheeks in concern.

The penny dropped. _Kuchiki Byakuya was sulking._ The steward beat a hasty retreat.

"I've been invited to stay for dinner, sorry Taicho," Renji laughed awkwardly. This was going to be fun. 

"The third seat seemed to think you weren't up to visitors," Byakuya sniffed. 

Renji hummed thoughtfully and took a seat, which earned him a glare like winter sunshine glancing off an icy lake. He got comfortable all the same. "Well, that's kinda why I came," he explained, sliding the letter across the edge of the table, trying not to interrupt Byakuya's staring competition with the shogi board. 

"We've had words and she sends her apologies. It's my fault really - she was pretty cut up hearing about me leaving. And she heard through the rumour mill too, rather than from me...not ideal," he said, trying and failing to see the strategy behind the 1v1 game the Captain had going. It looked like a pretty suicidal set up. 

"I'm not angry at Takayuki Sanseki. I am angry at myself," Byakuya said. He huffed and started to pick pieces off the board and pack them away. "I am not accustomed to failure as a Captain, and it is especially upsetting, knowing I've failed as your friend." Renji's stomach did a little unhappy wriggle. 

Being conditioned to try and bother Byakuya as little as possible and please him as much as possible, his first instinct was to make light of the situation. "It's nothing serious! 4th division told me I just needed to you know...talk to Zabimaru more and err...well. Sort my love life out. Not my proudest moment, going to 4th division because of a little heartbreak," it vomited out before Renji had a chance to realise this would not be reassuring news.

A glacial pause. 

Then there was the slightest brush of something against the edge of his senses. Clean and floral and hesitant. It recoiled the moment it touched him - his reiatsu felt sharp and defensive, like a cornered animal.

"Your reiatsu is like this because of me?" the Captain asked. Renji looked up in surprise. It was alarming, how dark Byakuya's eyes were. He looked so openly distraught. Renji swallowed and frantically back-pedalled. "It's not your fault, Taicho. You can't help how you feel and I wouldn't want you to feel obligated..."  
"You misunderstand me...this is all a misunderstanding. I don't feel obligated, Renji, I...care for you a great deal," Byakuya was, ridiculously, fiddling with the shogi pieces. With his dark eyelashes cast against his pale cheeks he looked...shy?  
"Care....?" Renji's throat clicked.  
"Yes Renji, I care."

_Fuck._ His limbs felt heavy but his head was floating right off his shoulders, dizzyingly fast. 

"I think I need to hear you say it straight, Byakuya," he said, finding the last vestiges of his courage.

Byakuya's next breath was slightly shaky and irritated at the same time, but his fingers came up to brush against Renji's jaw as he said "I return your feelings, Renji." Something short-circuited between being touched and what was being said. Renji just stared for a second, taking in the relaxed posture and arched, expectant eyebrow, the backs of long fingers still pressed lightly against his neck.

Tucked under the narrow table, they were out of reach of touching. Renji could manage just a slight jostle of knees if he really stretched his stance. It was killing him a little, so he wrapped a hand around Byakuya's wrist to compensate, even though he got a sharp little lightning-fast look for it. "What changed?" he asked.  
"Nothing. Nothing changed because I hadn't decided against you in the first place, you dolt. You caught me off guard with a proposition I'd never let myself consider. Then all you kept saying was I should forget, or forgive. I was certain you either assumed I'd be ashamed or were ashamed yourself, which didn't seem auspicious."  
"Yeah, I did didn't I?" Renji groaned. "That was stupid of me."  
"You are stupider still to think I would let you leave. I **can** say it Renji - I came to tell you this afternoon that I need you, I can't cope without you."  
"Then I'll stay."

Byakuya huffed in laughter this time. "So easy to convince, Abarai-Fukutaicho. Am I that compelling?"  
"Are you...Are you flirting with me right now?" Renji frowned, a smile breaking out across his face.  
"Definitely, if that adds to my argument that you _stay_."  
"I said I would, didn't I? I've done a whole bunch of dumb shit for you. This is actually a sensible idea."

They looked at each other for a moment, warm oak meeting silver birch. "Is this the part where you 'sit and admire and how incredible I am'?" Byakuya smirked. 

Renji leaned back on his hands away from the table and took a moment to do just that. "Flirting suits you. I think you should kiss me though, it's your turn," he said with his best 'come get me' grin.

It was funny, watching Byakuya assess the optics of the situation, decide he was too prim to get up on his knees and stretch himself over the table, and just stand up instead. He moved like a geisha would, popping up one knee to get his feet under himself, adjusting his sleeves as he stood. Renji neglected to make space for him, so Byakuya had to sit close - right thigh up against right hip, Renji's sleeve draped in his lap. Renji didn't stop himself from glancing down the collar of his kimono and admiring the line of neck as he bent forward, one hand on Renji's chest to steady himself. 

A ghost of breath on his face made Renji look up at the last minute before warm lips caught his and it was like fresh winter air after a stifling, humid summer. There was a little smudge of wet on his bottom lip when Byakuya reeled back, but this time they immediately rocked back in.

It was the best thing in the world. He could feel the hot blood in his veins and the warmth of Byakuya's breath in his own lungs.

Soft fingertips touched to the space where his collar crossed at the front. Renji’s nose was pressed snugly into a warm pale cheek, full of the smell of rich cinnamon and ginger. Byakuya’s tongue flicked against his bottom lip and they sunk into a hot wet slide. Renji wrapped an arm around Byakuya’s waist and tugged him forward off balance, just to be more in control of the kiss. A long swipe of his tongue and teeth against lips dismissed any resistance. The noble melted, both hands like hot brands on Renji's chest.

Eventually Byakuya turned his head away to breathe and pressed his cheekbone under Renji's.

"You'll have to court me properly, you realise," he breathed. 

Renji swore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chuuuuu~
> 
> R: I float your boat, then, is what you're saying?  
> B: Renji  
> R: I rock your socks.  
> R: You're hot for this bod.  
> B: ...  
> R: Warm for my form.  
> B: Gods please stop
> 
> I was determined to write a fic without the obligatory 'they are sat in the office doing paperwork' scene. I am ancient and grow weary of that as A Thing. 
> 
> Opening words from Genji Monogatari.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Courting is chaotic but Renji's life is better than it ever was.

####  _He would be less a prey to longing if he could find in her even a trace of the ordinary._

There were a thousand new, sparkling things he loved about where his life was going. There were just under a thousand concerns to match. 

Telling people was easy to begin with, because they told Rukia first. They told her that Renji was staying and that they were together. Telling Rukia felt like bringing her into the fold, rather than having to expose their tender secret to the cruel world. 

From there, everything rapidly unravelled. 

The news did not go down well with the Kuchiki matchmaker. Yayoi-sama was the sort of woman you could tell had been painfully beautiful about 250 years ago and felt very sour about it. She read Renji the riot act over the proper way of doing things; there had been no formal declaration, no gifts, no family meetings, no negotiation, no dowry, they had told Rukia first, they had no chaperone. On and on it went. Renji was obliged to point out that working with Byakuya, his _Captain_ , would be impossible if they weren't allowed to be in a room alone together, and that they had, in fact, been alone together many, many times without incident. Righteous indignation did not adequately describe the response. 

"I forgot how terrifying old ladies are," Renji despaired, when they were shamefully alone in the training hall the next day. Byakuya looked so irresistible trying to hold his composure - his face twitching between amused and suitably demure - that Renji flailed and yelled. "That's it, I'm getting privacy screens for your office," he grumbled. "She's right, your face does things to me.”

They presented a united front to the elders. They had mutually agreed after Yayoi-sama's tirade that, if courting was compulsory, they'd be doing it their own way. They were both achingly stubborn - Byakuya ran cold with it and Renji ran boiling hot - so victory was assured.

In an almost empty room split in half by a step across its middle, a group of old men sat bow-backed on piles of cushions. Byakuya and Renji were made to kneel low at the lip of the step, with a lacquered modesty screen like cold obsidian rising between them. The hall was deeper in the estate than Renji had ever strayed before. The wide ring of emptiness around the building was disconcerting - no trees, no whimsical covered verandas, just a single paved path of stone leading to potential disaster.

The Kuchiki family lashed their tongues for an unbroken quarter of an hour, dashed themselves against the glacial walls of Byakuya's resolve until it was clear he wasn't going to "come around" and then changed tactic. They tried to rush them straight to the altar in the hopes Renji would scare and bolt. This was a miscalculation. Renji had been neck deep from day one and Byakuya disliked being told what to do.

"I will marry him. When I am ready to do so," the Captain said. "I will not submit to any interference outside the walls of this estate, especially if it will damage the effective running of my division." 

It appeared that Byakuya had a strategy for dealing with his family: cold indifference and unashamed manipulation of the fine print. Renji enjoyed the show.

The courtship traditions were designed to be for a man and a woman, usually barely acquainted with each other, and framed by a need to protect the young lady in question. The elders could hardly suggest that Byakuya needed protecting from Renji without implying he was the weaker party. Renji was amused when their eyes swivelled to him - two inches taller and a whole lot heavier, rougher. Wolfish and wild. They couldn't quite bring themselves to suggest _he_ needed protecting, even for the sake of argument. 

Finally, in a last effort at displeasure, the wrinkled gits attempted to cite the rules of the Gotei. They were woefully behind the times; shrivelled, ancient and cloistered things. There were several examples of relationships amongst officers past and present to present as argument. 

And, Renji suggested, surely an official courtship, sanctioned by the Kuchiki family, was better for the Gotei than an affair or elopement. Because they _were_ going to be together, whether or not they got permission. 

This was the right thing to say, as he found out later that day when Byakuya slithered into the office with his reiatsu thrumming low, cradled Renji's face in his warm palms and exploited their loophole in the courtship rules a little bit. With tongue. 

*

In all the excitement Renji still made time to follow Isane-Taicho's orders. He slipped into meditation so easily now. Perhaps because he was so full of contentment - like a hot spring bubbling at his core. Perhaps because he'd been practising, but that was less romantic.

A week into his meditation, he opened his mind to the connection and found power simmering there in deep pools. When he called, it came to him like red lightning over his scalp. His fingers tingled with it and the screen doors snapped in their runners behind him. He gasped for breath, eyes flying open. He barely recognised the rushing blood in his ears and frantic hammering of his pulse. He absently wondered if this was what a heart attack felt like. Zabimaru laughed, howling and hissing, in his head.

Rukia looked over from the cushion next to him, poised in perfect lotus position and beamed. "It's good to have you back," she said. 

There was something predatory underneath his new strength. Renji thought it might be Zabimaru showing their pleasure. The quality of this energy was unfamiliar. He felt sharp and clear like shards of glass. He kept it secret, his reiatsu quiet and subtle even though it almost itched to break loose. He wanted to tell Byakuya first. 

Renji felt a little mischievous these days, so he waited for the perfect time. He waited until he was sat on a purple cushion wearing pressed silk hakama, looking at a paper screen painted with Kaminari wielding the storm in his hands. Yayoi-sama was sat with one eye each side of the barrier. 

He listened for the small signs that Byakuya was there on the other side of the frame - the grinding of an ink stone, the shuffling of paper. In an act of rebellion, they had taken to bringing division business to these official courting sessions. They always chose the dullest work and were disappointed when it failed to put the matchmaker to sleep. Yayoi-sama had practised idle gossip and feigned politeness from a young age, and honed it to the point of an art form. 

Renji found another way to shake things up.

Resting his palms on his knees and breathing in long through his nose, he dialled up his reiatsu. Zabimaru writhed and stretched inside his veins - it felt like he had hackles, his skin shivering up from the base of his spine to his widow's peak. It would definitely be noticeable now. Yayoi's eyebrows curled curiously as the screen wobbled and the teacups vibrated. 

All other sound stopped, then there was paper slipping to the floor, cascading into Yayoi's lap. Sheets of neat calligraphy posted themselves under the barrier and hit Renji's cushion. Shuffling and scraping furniture. 

_"Renji."_

When he looked up, Byakuya was on his knees, hand curled around the edge of the screen and eyes glinting. The look said welcome back. It said relief. It was desperate - for reassurance, for explanations, for sparring and something more.

"Byakuya," he said with a grin. 

Yayoi started screeching and dragging the wooden frame across to cover Byakuya again.

"We will talk about this later, Abarai-Fukutaicho," Byakuya said, and the matchmaker's nostrils flared at the shamelessness of it all. 

Later, they kissed about it. 

Renji's quarters were technically Gotei property, which meant it was out of Yayoi's reach and beyond her damn rules. The room was warmed by a brazier, and darker now that the paper walls had been battened down with rush screens against the oncoming winter. 

Up in their tall tower, Byakuya pressed his forehead to Renji's neck and breathed so deeply. "How did it happen? You feel different, wilder," Byakuya whispered into his chest.  
"Zabimaru was just suddenly there again, volume turned all the way up. I can't help thinking it's thanks to you...or this," Renji smiled, hand pressing up between Byakuya’s shoulder blades.  
"You cannot give me credit when I caused the pain to begin with."  
"Don't - you said it yourself, I'm not just back to normal I'm better than before. Because of you."

Renji felt his lover's energy reaching out, testing and feeling. It was like the lick of warm flames against his skin. It took nothing at all to spill over into kissing. Their mouths met just as their spiritual energy braided and twined together. It kept rising until Renji was sure that the entire division would _know_ that Byakuya had laid his teeth on Renji's neck and dragged his tongue against Renji's bottom lip and pressed him to the tatami matting until he gasped. 

He was still left hard and wanting. Byakuya was expected home. Perhaps they were both more afraid of Yayoi-sama than they let on. 

*

"Look, don't argue. I'm trying to do something nice for you," Rukia chided him. Her hand was wrapped almost painfully hard around his wrist as she dragged him along. "Rukia it'll be awkward, it's fine, I'm used to eating in the mess," he whined. 

With all the nonsense about impropriety, Renji had given up trying to eat at the Kuchiki-estate these past weeks. Rukia wasn't considered a responsible chaperone, apparently, and eating behind a privacy screen with Yayoi-sama didn't make for a good evening. 

"You're having dinner with me. Just with me. Some brother and sister time," she said, with a sly grin. "Where you go _after_ dinner is none of my business, of course."

Renji stumbled over his own feet a bit. "Rukia what the fuck?" he yelped.  
"Nii-sama has been spending a suspicious amount of time at the division in the evenings, I can't imagine why. Yayoi-sama hasn't imagined yet either, not being too up on Gotei business..." Rukia raised an eyebrow at him expectantly.  
"Don't look at me in that tone of voice," he snapped.  
"Look. He's off duty today, so he's got no excuse to see you, right?"  
"....Right."  
"Well, I just thought that was a shame," Rukia huffed. 

Renji stayed very pointedly silent as Rukia led him through the estate. There was a long covered walkway over a shadowed, mossy garden - it was the barrier between the rest of the estate and the family rooms. Renji rarely crossed it, but it was his favourite place, with the twisted tree shedding leaves onto the wooden walkways, and tiny delicate railings that just reached mid-calf. 

You had to be invited to cross the bridge, Renji knew. He shouldn't have been able to get in, on that night where he'd shouted at Byakuya. Either way, Yayoi-sama wouldn't be getting in after him today. 

Rukia's rooms were all light oak, trinkets on shelves and piles of soft cushions. The fleeting glimpses Renji had managed of Byakuya's space were quite the contrary - minimalist and elegant, dark wood and geometric patterns. 

They had a companionable dinner, where Rukia tried not to talk about the wedding and Renji tried not to talk about work. They settled on talking about a bit of both. Ichigo's sisters were coming to the wedding, somehow. Rukia wanted to go to the living world and watch some movies, but Ichigo felt weird about going back. Renji had picked up some good manga last time he was there, Ichigo might want to borrow them. Rukia had a new 20th seat with a cool Zanpakuto that split itself into lots of little throwing knives on command. 

Renji scraped the last of the sweet potato and apple pie off his plate and hummed in thought. "I'm pretty hard to smuggle, what's your plan here?" he asked. Rukia swallowed carefully, put down her fork. 

"You're not meant to know this. But these were Hisana's rooms. They're the nicest so Nii-sama gave them to me..." she trailed off. "Anyway...it means there's a connecting door. It's usually locked from both sides, but I may have slipped in and unlocked it from Nii-sama's side early this morning..." she coughed. 

Renji felt a bit sick. When Byakuya thought about that connecting door being used again, this was probably not what he'd imagined. 

"It's very subtle, actually. There's a small storage space in each set of rooms that interlock, and the door is almost invisible..." Rukia was pushing food around her plate.  
"So you were just going to shove me through a wardrobe and lock the door behind me, is that it?"  
"Nii-sama isn't in his rooms right now, he's taken dinner in the library. I wasn't throwing you straight in the lions den," she snorted.  
"He's the lion, is he?"  
"Renji!" she groaned, covering her eyes. He laughed, and Rukia snorted, then they were both laughing.  
"Come on then, if you’re feeling that confident," she smirked, getting up and nonchalantly throwing open the door to a small storage room in the corner. It was a teetering, chaotic mess of what Renji would describe as Girl Stuff. He gingerly opened the door at the back of the closet. "I'll go get Nii-sama. You lock the door from that side, I'll lock mine again," Rukia explained, and vanished. The lock clicked behind him. 

Rather than a haphazard collection of clothes boxes, Byakuya's store room was almost empty. A neat line of waraji sandals on the bottom shelf, two white haori folded on top of each other, sword polish, several bokken, a comb wrapped in a slip of fabric and not much else. Just an emergency stash for on the way out the door to work. He touched nothing. 

He came out in the familiar sitting room with its long asymmetrical shelves and polished furniture. The brazier at the near end of the room was gently glowing, a pot of water bubbling over it ready for tea. Four navy cushions were set out as if expecting company. Renji peered through the glass fronted cabinet in the corner at the delicate array of tea cups stacked inside. 

Renji found himself wandering a little deeper. The doors were open to the next room and the room after that, a nested trio of identical painted frames tempting you on into what looked like a library, then a room with a stepped alcove filled with flowers. Renji didn't think about whether this was a bedroom.

He spun at the sound of voices behind him. Byakuya was herded into the room looking like a cat that had been shoved off its favourite sunny windowsill. He'd probably been in the library, in the warm embrace of his favourite poetry. "Rukia will you please -" he cut off, seeing Renji. A long beat of silence.

"Good, I'm glad you understand. I won't be able to do this after I move to the Shiba estate, so you best make the most of it," was her parting shot and it made Renji blush hard up to his ears. The sound of the door shutting was deafening.

"Sorry, I should have dragged her up better," Renji broke the silence.  
"No, I should have anticipated she would - "  
" - Stick her nose in?"  
"Have some sort of scheme, yes," Byakuya sighed, looking at the floor.  
“Well, soon enough she’ll be Ichigo’s problem.” 

They both smiled at that. 

"You going to offer me tea?" Renji teased. "All you get at Rukia's dinner table is grape soda."  
Byakuya's face didn't move much, but Renji could tell exactly how disgusted he was at the mere concept.

Watching Byakuya make plain green tea (not even the fancy type!) was like watching some sort of traditional dance. His movements were practised and sure. Renji appreciated the little flirting glimpses of wrist and neck - he would be insanely jealous of anyone but him getting to watch this, he mused. When Byakuya served up the cup to him with a smile, his nerves crept back up on him again. 

There was no good reason for this not to end with them naked in bed. So far there had been long, teasing hours of kissing, growing bolder as they filled out the gaps between friends and lovers. Renji's brain was indelibly branded with the few times he'd seen skin - the sight of a long pale leg almost up to the knee had nearly ended him, and then Byakuya had writhed down into Renji's lap once, again like he couldn't resist, then pulled away as Renji's gasped through the third roll of his hips. 

Renji snapped back to the present and hastily took a drink of his tea. "Are you joining me or having something...er...ha ha..stronger?" he asked. Smooth, Renji. Smooth.

Byakuya's look was all too perceptive. He exhaled through his nose and poured another cup for himself. "We do not have to do anything, if you don't want to," he said.  
"Who said I didn't? Wait, do you want to?" Renji gabbled.  
"Do you?" Byakuya's gaze was level and distressingly unembarrassed.  
"O'course....It's just been a long time..."  
"You do not get to use that excuse, Renji."  
"Ah....yeah...I guess I don't. It's just....it's you and I'm allowed to be nervous, alright?" he was frowning, now.  
"That surprises me. I would have thought you knew exactly what you wanted, and what you liked."

Maybe it was the tea, but Renji's whole face felt like it was burning. A slow heat creeping into his lap. He prayed he wasn't blushing.

"I do. But until recently I didn't think you'd be interested in those things...."  
"We were both mistaken. Truthfully, I thought you were waiting for Rukia to get over Kaien and then Ichigo. When Ichigo died and came to Soul Society I was seriously concerned for you at first," Byakuya said matter-of-factly.  
“Wait...you didn’t know I was gay...?”  
“No, I did not."  
"...Right....Well, I am. Very."

Byakuya's arched eyebrow told him how unnecessary this clarification was. Renji was sweating - he felt like he'd forgotten how to flirt, forgotten how to be a functioning human being, forgotten that he'd kissed this man before, shared more heated moments than this. 

"Naturally you weren't aware that before Hisana there were several men that caught my attention.”

Renji coughed on his tea. 

"Kami, Byakuya..what the....You don't need to give me details," he spluttered.  
"I am simply reassuring you that I also know exactly what I want," Byakuya said. 

Renji watched the words coming out of his mouth. _I also know exactly what I want_. His Captain's low voice was almost sultry, warmed by tea and relaxation. _Fuck._ He could really have done without getting half hard from a single sentence. 

"How about you give me a tour?" Renji said, an attempt at finding his feet with flirtation again.  
Byakuya looked like he was about to ask whether he wanted a tour of the rooms or of something entirely different. He restrained himself.

*

Their hands brushed, chased after each other and caught as Byakuya told Renji about the calligraphy in the sitting room. The scale of the scroll and the bold strokes of the brush matched up with Renji's vague idea of Kuchiki Ginrei's personality. 

Renji was listening less when they got to his mother's poetry collection, one hand wrapped around Byakuya's waist, chin hooked over a shoulder. The long lean line of the noble was pressed tight up against his chest. Miles of clean, silken hair for Renji to press his face against.

He'd got his mouth against Byakuya's neck, below his ear, hands on hips before he realised Byakuya was no longer reeling off the history of Senbonzakura's sword stand. There was a subtle shift in weight, Byakuya propping himself up against Renji. It was a sort of submission, the long slice of bared throat under Renji's teeth. 

"Shall I tell you what I like now?" he asked, brushing his lips back and forth over a flittering pulse.

Byakuya turned in his arms, kissed him fiercely. The sort of kiss that came with appreciative rumbles from deep in Renji's chest. "Tell me," Byakuya whispered between sharp bites to the hard line of Renji''s jaw. It was difficult to start, to pull his concentration away from where his lover was sucking bruises along his neck, too high to be hidden."I like being naked, especially in the middle of the day," he breathed, shut his eyes to continue. "I don't need any seduction, surprise me, jump me." He paused, enjoyed being the centre of attention. He could feel Byakuya stretching up a little to reach around his shoulders. "It's crazy good, being this tall, being able to lift someone, bend them." Byakuya shuddered, a hot breath spreading across the collar of his uniform even as long fingers started picking apart his clothes. 

He waited until Byakuya pulled back and caught his eyes before he spoke again. "I love using my mouth. Shall I do that?" he said, speaking into the tiny space between their mouths. Byakuya's eyelashes twitched and his hands tensed a little, digging into the muscles of Renji's back. 

The kisses were staccato as they moved towards the bedroom, but they didn't stop. 

He was peeling away the layers of Byakuya's clothing, sinking onto the futon in the dim light of early evening. There was altogether too much to drink in with his eyes so his hands joined in, making permanent records of the smallest details; the dip between shoulder and bicep, soft lines up the inside of pale thighs, the sharp ratio of back to waist. The kisses still didn't stop.

Renji retreated only to work his way out of his own clothes. He could tell his tanned skin was looking good in the half light by the way Byakuya's eyes drew the lines of his tattoos, fingers following down his abs, across the V of his hips before Renji caught them.

"Tell me yours," he said, pressing Byakuya back against the bed. His mouth went light over pectorals, tongue wet along the lines of lithe stomach muscles, teeth sharp against iliac crest.

"I like.." Byakuya started, haltingly. "I like the act of undressing each other, even if it is just partly." Renji chuckled, wondering if that meant he liked surprise encounters too. "I like eating dinner in bed and not leaving it again until morning." Byakuya hesitated and Renji decided to tease, just enough to encourage the sharing of intimate details. He was greedy for it - he felt passionately that they should share everything. After a long, hitched sigh, the list continued. "I like being on my stomach the most but it always feels good, no matter which- _Renji_ ," he cut off at the swirl of Renji's tongue around his cock. 

Renji set to a pace and let Byakuya twitch his hips up a little until he got himself back under control. "I'd like to be inside you too, now and then, if-" Byakuya said. He sounded too nervous for a man being sucked off, really, so Renji pulled off, squeezed and found Byakuya's eyes. There was a blush high on the noble's cheekbones. He looked good. 

“I'd like that. It's intense for me, but I'd like that,” Renji grinned, went back between Byakuya's beautiful thighs. He pressed his fingers deep into muscles and fantasised about being filled and taken apart.

The one time he'd had someone inside him had been _so much_. It was early in his sexual experimentation - before he'd got into his stride with men - and too much to dare repeating at the 11th. Hands and the crease of a hip or slick thighs were as much as you’d risk giving to that crowd in return for short term gratification.

“This time I want you inside me,” Byakuya breathed. Renji groaned around the dick in his mouth, and went deeper to show how much he was into that idea. 

The oil was pleasantly scented, and Renji used enough that it ran down the inside of his wrist and made the lewdest noise where their bodies joined. Byakuya writhed beautifully with two fingers in him and a mouth around his cock. It was so hot, even with how awkward the angle was for Renji's hand. And when Renji got him stretched out on his belly, stuffed a pillow under his hips and pushed inside, Byakuya started up with this breathy panting that made him lose his mind a little. 

He went slow, grinding into the tight clutch of Byakuya's body until he could barely stand it any more. 

He waited until Byakuya's arms were shaking from the effort of keeping himself propped up, the muscles of his back jumping, then he bowed forward, went harder. "Kami you're gorgeous. We should get a mirror so I can see your face as you cum," he rumbled, low into Byakuya's ear. That was enough, apparently, for the man under him to tip over, shuddering and biting back groans, rocking back and forth to chase a little more, a little more until it was too much. 

Renji's release was deep, rounded, like falling without the fear of what came after. 

The sky was dark red and orange when he finally went to move and get dressed. Squirming out from under the blankets, out from under Byakuya's limbs where they were thrown over him, was the worst thing. 

"Stay," Byakuya mumbled, hand catching his elbow before he slipped out of reach.

Renji raised an eyebrow and hummed."You'll get in trouble."  
"No. You will get in trouble, but I'm worth it, am I not?"

Renji had to agree. 

They didn't leave bed until long after breakfast.

*

Ichigo and Rukia were married three weeks later. Watching them up there at the altar, Renji was buzzing with affection, and strangely, with jealousy. They were almost glowing from the inside. It was barely contained behind their teeth as they smiled and smiled and smiled. Ichigo kept a tight hand on Rukia's sleeve, like he would float away without an anchor. 

Renji wanted that too. 

Later, he told Byakuya, who seemed to be in a nostalgic sort of mood.

"I did say I would marry you, when I was ready," he smiled. It was the rare, fond sort of smile Renji enjoyed the most. "It is the best feeling in the world," he went on, pushing Renji's hair back over his shoulder. He'd worn it half down in an attempt to thoroughly distract Byakuya. It appeared to be working.

"Better than this?" Renji asked, kissed his Captain. Soft, lingering.  
"Mm. Marry me and find out for yourself."

Renji thought, inexplicably of Yayoi-sama and how much trouble they could cause her, rocketing from one marriage straight into the next. Then of Rukia - the empty rooms she was leaving behind and the way her face might look watching them at the altar instead. 

He thought of Byakuya, asleep in his narrow bed at the division and the way Kirara's eyebrows rocketed up the next morning at the sight of them. 

"I'd love that," he grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-dah! This was fun practise for people arguing and misunderstanding each other. I hope you enjoyed it too, and aren't too angry at the lower smut percentage. This is a fortified wine level of smut, rather than neat spirit in a shot glass. 
> 
> I am sad to say this might be **mostly** all I have to say on the topic of this pairing for a while? I have written like a novel about these two at this point? But there is a definite temptation to add little one off follow-ups, so hold onto your hats for that.
> 
> Opening words from Murasaki-sensei. We love us some poetry from 10th century female novelists.


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